


Walk This Crazy Ground

by poisontaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-30
Updated: 2007-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5376620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>18 months prior to the events of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5232107">The Killing Moon</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk This Crazy Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brynwulf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynwulf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Killing Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232107) by [poisontaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster). 



When they came up out of the hollowed tree that hid the door to Hell, Henricksen and the FBI were waiting. Cosmic irony or Winchester bad luck or just a last little trick by the demons, who could tell?

As it turned out, it wasn't the _last_ trick the demons played on them.

Or even the worst.

*

The three of them are shuffling along in a line, wrists cuffed to wrists, leg-irons, the whole nine, when the doctor interrupts the procession: Henricksen's victory parade.

"They haven't been tested."

"They're federal prisoners, Doc."

"Yes, but their records show they've never been tested. You know the rules, Agent Henricksen; every living person must undergo fertility testing." The doctor's lips are pressed together in a fussy but implacable line. "Every. Living. Person."

Sam can tell Henricksen is furious, but the agent just leans back against the stained concrete wall of the holding facility with every evidence of easiness and says, "Sure, Doc. Whatever you say. Won't make a difference anyway. If one of these fine Winchester boys turns out to be a Breeder, I'll eat my pretty hat."

"You're not wearing a hat," the doctor points out.

It's the first time any of them hears the word: Breeder. It doesn't get any better on repeated hearings.

*

The doctor keeps talking, but Sam can't hear anything over the rush of his blood in his ears.

Uterus.

_Uterus._

*

There's a gash through the center of one of Dean's eyebrows and his lip is split. He smiles at the sight of Sam and Sam watches blood well up slow and fat from his mouth. Sam lowers himself into the opposing seat on the other side of the glass, feeling heavy and blushy-hot. Meeting Dean's eyes is harder than he thought it would be.

"Hey," Dean says once Sam picks up the receiver. He touches the glass. "Looking good, man."

 _Better than you,_ Sam thinks, prickling with low-level rage and his weird, deepening sense of shame. "Yeah."

"You all right?"

"Yeah." Sam looks down. There are words carved in the scratched Formica of the counter; obscenities and declarations of eternal love surrounded by crooked hearts. "What about you? You and Dad doing okay?"

"Sure." Sam can't tell if Dean's tone is truth or his typical bravado. "Nothing we can't handle. What about you? What's going on, man?"

 _I have a uterus_ , Sam thinks, though the words stay frozen on his tongue. _All the women are dead or dying and the government wants me to have a baby to help save the human race._

"I'm gonna get you and Dad out of here real soon," Sam says instead, evading the question entirely. "I've got a plan."


End file.
